Only Those With Power
by specsNspaz
Summary: Excerpt from final chapter: 'This is your last chance,' Harry said, extending his hand towards the fallen Voldemort, 'Take it or leave it...' Our take on what happens after book six. HHr, though not immediately, other character pairings, not sure what yet


Only Those With Power

specsNspaz

Disclaimer:We own nothing but the plot, which is partially J.K.Rowling's anyway. Possibly a character or two, maybe some spells, if we can be bothered to make any up. Otherwise, none of it is ours, which is obvious anyway.

Warnings:May contain some course language, WILL contain one or more graphic sex scenes, if you are offended by this, do not read, obviously. Descriptive violence and gore may crop up, so yeah. We are Australian, so some of the spelling may differ. Oh, and this will contain Half Blood Prince spoilers, so continue at your own risk if you haven't read the book.

A/N:Okay, so here's the 911 (ha ha ha I'm so funny). This is a joint fic, by spaz and specs, obviously (we are twin cousin thingy like peoples, don't ask), so there may be slight differences in writing style, though we hope it flows well, you be the judge. This is a Harry/Hermione fiction, if you don't like, don't read, and please don't flame just to tell us you don't like Harry/Hermione. There will be other pairings, not sure what yet. This is our take of what happens after book six. Enjoy.

**Chapter One: Assault on Privet Drive.**

Harry's past week at The Burrow had been an enjoyable one. Despite the pain he still felt, he knew he was finally getting over Dumbledore's death. He would still get that all to familiar jolt in his stomach whenever somebody mentioned his name, but he knew it would do him no good to dwell on something he couldn't change. Besides, he couldn't help but laugh. With Bill and Fleur's wedding tomorrow, Fleur, Mrs Weasley and Mrs Delacour (who had arrived with Mr Delacour and Gabrielle several days ago), were running around like chickens with their heads cut off, making sure everything was prepared in time.

A very small part of Harry was telling him he could have used this week to start his journey, however he knew he couldn't just leave. He knew that he had to spend as much time as possible with the people he loved, for this could be the last he saw of them for a very long time, if ever again. Though he tried to put that particular thought from him mind, for he had to stay positive, or he would get nowhere. The road ahead of him was going to be a long and perilous one; his first surprise came a week ago, on the eve of his seventeenth birthday.

BEGIN FLASHBACK…

The moonlight bathed itself over the monotony of houses of Privet Drive, each one creating the exact same shadow across the perfectly manicured lawns. Most "normal" residents would be sleeping at 11:27 at night. But one boy, who was by no means normal, was wide awake. Tomorrow was an important day, for it was when Harry Potter became a man. That is, turn seventeen, meaning he was allowed to use magic outside of school, amongst a whole host of other things. Though he was not able to completely enjoy these things to the fullest, because he carried the "weight of the world" on his shoulders. He was, in fact, not long from setting out to find a way to destroy the most powerful being, the most vile creature, the most evil person (if you could call him that) that now walked the earth…Lord Voldemort.

Though none of these thoughts were new to Harry. They had all crossed his mind everyday over the past few weeks. But instead of feeling defeated, as many would, he would reassure himself, confirm his courage, bolster his moral, always with the same line,

'Dumbledore believed I could do it.'

Dumbledore. When he wasn't thinking of what he had to do, he was reliving _that_ night. There were so many ifs about that night,

'What if he hadn't immobilised me?'

'What if I had been stronger?'

'What if, what if, what if…'

Yet for all the blame he could put on himself, he couldn't help but place a small amount of it on Dumbledore. Why hadn't he known it was a fake Horcrux? Why hadn't he been able to see, like Harry, that Snape was, is, evil? So many questions. Questions, Harry felt, shouldn't need to be asked, for Dumbledore should have known these things.

Harry stared out of the window. The moonlight was bright. So bright, in fact, that it made his eyes water. At least, he blamed it on the moon. Subconsciously he had dressed himself and packed his trunk. The floor, which was usually completely covered with school things, and rubbish, was spotless. He would be seventeen shortly, and would soon be leaving the Dursleys forever.

He had received a letter earlier in the day. The parchment upon which it was written lay partially crumpled on his bedside table. Harry had it practically memorized, for he had read it through countless times since its arrival that morning.

_Dear Harry, _

_How are you. After all that has happened, I'm sure that is a stupid question, but I hope you haven't been too down about it all. I wish I could have been there for you, to give you some company. But that is sort of the reason I am writing. Can you be ready with all your things at midnight tonight? We are coming to get you. We're awaiting you reply, though we'll come and get you no matter what. See you soon._

_Love From,_

_Hermione._

So Harry had set his alarm clock, which incidentally he had "borrowed" from Dudley, to 11:20, in case he fell asleep, though that wasn't likely. And now, he was finally ready to leave this place forever. He actually had mixed feelings about this. Mostly, he was glad to get away from the people who had made his life a living hell. But a small part of him was grateful that they had agreed to take care for him as a baby, because, as much as he liked to deny it, they had essentially kept him alive.

Harry glanced at the clock. 11:50.

'Only ten minutes,' he thought to himself. It was then that Harry noticed it. A humanoid shadow was filtering into the room where the shine from the moon had been moments ago. Harry slowly walked to the window, peering out into the darkened street below. Looking at the house directly in front of him, he spotted the source of the mysterious shadow. A cloaked figure was standing on the roof. Harry stared hard, trying to make out a face, or any recognisable feature, when suddenly, to his dismay, several more appeared on the lawn, one after another, as though emerging from the air itself. These figures were much closer, allowing Harry to scope them out. They were all clad in the same cloak as the first, and as one of them looked up into the sky, Harry caught a glimpse of a mask. His heart gave a leap of dread, and he felt one thing. Fear. He knew who they were, and why they were outside his uncle's house. They were Death Eaters, and they were there for Harry.

'But how did they find me?' Harry thought to himself, 'Didn't Dumbledore say I was protected here?'

Harry looked down at the clock. 11:53. 'Perhaps the magic is waning?' One thing was for certain. He needed to get out of there. Pulling his wand out of his pocket, he glanced again into the yard. They weren't attacking. 'They must be waiting till midnight'. He turned abruptly and left his bedroom, making his way down the hall. He banged loudly before opening the door and yelling, 'Get up!' he then moved to Dudley's room.

'Dudley, wake up,' he said, switching on the light. Dudley's eyes opened and he squinted at Harry.

'What for?' Dudley asked sleepily.

'We have to go,' replied Harry, heading back into the hallway. His uncle was waiting for him, and looked like he was about to explode.

'Now you listen here boy, you had better have a good excuse for waking us up,' he growled. Harry was surprised to hear him speak in a relatively calm manner. Dudley emerged from his bedroom.

'Yeah Potter, I was having a really good dream about chocolate,' he mumbled.

'There's no time, we have to get out of this house NOW,' Harry said impatiently, trying to push his way past his uncle. A large hand closed around Harry arm, and he was turned forcibly to face his family.

'Why?' Uncle Vernon asked ignorantly, eyeing Harry suspiciously.

'Because if you stay here you are going to die!' Harry yelled, wrenching his arm from his uncle's grip.

Aunt Petunia squealed.

'Has… has HE come?' she asked hesitantly.

'No, but his cronies have,' Harry told her quickly. He was really starting to lose his patience now.

Uncle Vernon was still eyeing him with suspicion, as though unable to accept that they were all in mortal danger. Harry was through trying to convince them.

'Fine, don't believe me. See if I care. Btu if you want to live, then follow me,' he said to them, setting off at a decent pace toward the stairs, the Dursley's hot on his heels. When at the bottom, he immediately went to the cupboard under the stairs, and opened the door. The Dursley's stared at him, disbelief etched into their faces.

'In,' Harry demanded, motioning them inside. He took the teeniest bit of pleasure at the control he had over them. 'And keep quiet,' he added, closing the door and applying the latch.

'What are you going to do?' Dudley asked through the vent in the door, sounding petrified.

'I'm going to try and fight them,' Harry replied determinedly. The chiming of the mantle clock caught his attention. He turned to see the hands click onto the twelve.

'Oh no,' he muttered, as at that precise second the front door was blasted from its hinges, and scattered into a thousand tiny pieces. He pointed his wand at the empty space that was a door moments ago.

'Impedimenta,' he yelled as a brilliant light erupted from his wand. He didn't wait to see if the curse had made contact. Instead he turned and dashed toward the back door.

He could hear voices behind him. He arrived at the back door and wrenched it open, to find himself face to face with a familiar foe. This someone had been present the night of Dumbledore's death. Harry staggered backwards and fell to the ground as Fenrir Greyback advanced slowly upon him. He sneered down at Harry, baring his teeth, which were even yellower than at their previous meeting.

Harry jumped up and ran from the kitchen, sending a Reductor curse over his shoulder for good measure. Adrenaline was pumping through Harry's veins. He ran back into the hallway to find two Death Eaters waiting for him. They fired two unknown curses at Harry who, using his Quidditch reflexes, managed to roll underneath and was back up in battle stance before the spells had hit the wall behind him.

'Stupefy,' he bellowed, watching as a bolt of red light hit one of the assailants in the chest. The other, however, was not harmed and had already sent a retaliatory curse back at Harry, lifting him off his feet and sending him soaring into the living room. He landed hard on the coffee table, which shattered beneath him. Harry felt a shard of glass penetrate his arm. It was painful, though not unbearable. He recovered quickly, raising his wand in front of him, ready for anything that came through that door. Or so he thought. Seven Death Eaters emerged through it, led by Fenrir Greyback, who was smiling malevolently.

'Come now Harry,' Greyback sneered, 'if we wanted you dead, you wouldn't have lasted five seconds. But fortunately for you, our Master wants you alive.'

Harry had to admit, he was scared. Two Death Eaters was fine, he could handle two. But seven at once. Even he had his limits. Harry's glanced around the room for something that could help him fight them off. His eyes fell upon the lounge, which could knock the entire group over, but he would never be able to do it quick enough. It all seemed hopeless. It was then, however, like a ray of light through the thickest darkness, that hope returned.

'REDUCTO!' was all Harry heard before the lounge room came crashing down, or more precisely, exploded. Multiple shots of different coloured light came flying through the dust, each one connecting with a Death Eater. It was now three on one.

'Much better odds,' Harry thought, as he aimed his wand at the lounge.

'Mobiliarbus,' he yelled as the lounge rose from the floor. Harry flung his wand hard in the direction of the remaining Death Eaters, and to his joy, the lounge followed knocking them into the wall. Harry turned to look upon his rescuers. Standing in the ruins were Hermione, Ron, Lupin, Tonks, Mr Weasley and Moody, all smiling.

Lupin chuckled at the look on Harry's face, and said, 'We couldn't decide who was going to come and get you, so we all came.'

Harry grinned broadly at them all.

'Well, it's a good thing we came when we did,' exclaimed Ron.

'You're late,' Harry retorted, embracing both Ron and Hermione in a hug.

Tonks disappeared for a moment, returning a minute later with the Dursley's in tow. They looked around in horror at the wreckage that was their living room. Harry couldn't help but laugh at the looks on their faces.

'Come on, we should get going, Molly will be frantic,' said Mr Weasley, leading the Dursley's through the gaping hole in the side of their house.

A cold dread suddenly filled Harry's heart, and to add insult to injury, his scar seared with a burning pain. It was then that Harry knew what was going to happen next. He wasn't sure how, but he knew. He turned, and there, standing on the Dursley's dew covered lawn, was Voldemort.

The Dark Lord stared straight at Harry, his crimson, cat-like eyes not even glancing at those who surrounded him.

'Harry,' Voldemort hissed, 'how good to see you again.' He took a step forward, his cloak billowing around him. Lupin stepped forward, raising his wand.

'Stupefy,' he yelled, but Voldemort merely raised his hand, sending the spell back at Lupin, who collapsed to the ground, stunned. Tonks fell next to him, grabbing hold of his shirt and shaking him.

'Remus, Remus no,' she pleaded, though Lupin remained still.

Harry tore his eyes from Lupin to glare at Voldemort, hatred flooding every fibre of his being.

'Come on Harry, you're a man now,' Voldemort said to him, 'it's time to start fighting your own battles, instead of letting others fight them for you.' At this Voldemort glided down the darkened street. Harry pulled himself away from Moody, who was holding him back, and ran toward Voldemort, his wand raised.

'Fine,' Harry yelled, chasing after him.

Moody reacted in a heartbeat. He nodded to Tonks, who immediately took hold of the Dursleys and Lupin and apparated away.

'Granger, take Weasley and go,' Moody growled.

'What about Harry?' Hermione questioned.

'Just go,' he yelled, turning away as Hermione apparated Ron and herself away. Moody limped after Harry.

Harry followed Voldemort down Privet Drive, until he came to a stop in front of a playground that was all too familiar to Harry.

Harry halted, breathing heavily.

'Now Harry,' Voldemort smiled, 'there is something I am _most_ curious about, and it seems that now you are the only one who can quench that curiosity.'

'LEGILIMENS!' he roared.

Images started swimming before Harry's eyes. Dumbledore falling from the tower; Snape fleeing the scene; the swirling figure of Professor Trelawney.

'NO,' Harry screamed.

'He cant hear the prophecy,' thought Harry, 'he just cant.'

Harry tried with he could to throw Voldemort from his mind. It was, however, a futile attempt, as Professor Trelawney started to speak those fateful words,

'_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…_

the connection was suddenly broken, and Harry's vision retuned to normal. He felt Moody take hold of his arm.

'Time to go,' Moody growled.

The final thing Harry saw before being swept away into nothingness, was Voldemort charging toward them.

END FLASKBACK…

Harry had escaped this relatively unscathed. A few cuts and bruises but otherwise okay. But this first obstacle made him realise he couldn't let himself be distracted by his so-called feelings. Mourning only chipped away at his confidence, and without confidence, he was sure to fail.

'Harry mate, come on,' Ron said, bringing Harry out of his reverie, 'Mum wants us to help with Fleur's relatives bags.'

Upon arriving in the kitchen and glancing out the back door, Harry had to wonder if Fleur had invited the whole of France. There was not so much a pile as a mountain of luggage waiting to be taken to the guesthouse. (The Weasley's knew they would never fit everybody in the house comfortably, and figured since they usually had guests, why not extend).

'Blimey,' Fred said, him and George joining them at the door, 'Lucky we had the extension built, we're going to need just for their stuff!'

Ron started to complain.

'It'll take us forever to move all of this,' he whined loudly, 'by the time we get it all inside, the wedding will be over.'

But Harry hadn't turned seventeen for nothing. As far as he was concerned, "manual" and "labour" were now dirty words.

'You're right Ron, it probably will take us all day,' Harry said, walking over to the mountain of luggage, 'unless of course we do things the easy way.' At this, Harry gave a casual flick of his wand, levitating one of the suitcases.

The twins laughed, and imitated Harry's actions. Ron looked at them all for a moment before saying, 'Oh yeah,' and following suit.

With Harry's smart thinking, it only took them about five minutes to move it all (which, admittedly, was still a long time considering there were four of them). By the time they were finished, Hermione had joined them in the front yard.

'Where's Ginny?' George asked. Harry was thinking the same thing; although it was normal for Hermione and Ginny to spend time together whilst at The Burrow, in his time spent there, Harry noticed he would hardly see one without the other.

'Oh, Fleur's got her and Gabrielle doing one last rehearsal,' Hermione said, rolling her eyes, and adding in a thick French tone, 'because zey must know what zey are doing, everyzing 'as to be perfeect!'

Harry couldn't help but laugh. He knew all to well what Fleur was like, the amount of times he had heard Ginny complain about her. And speaking of Ginny, she was still a touchy subject for Harry. Up until a week ago, when he arrived at The Burrow, he hadn't seen her since he broke off their relationship. Harry had fed her the excuse that he didn't want Voldemort using her to get to him (which wasn't entirely untrue; he didn't want her to get hurt), but the real reason was that, despite the fact that it made him happy to care for someone, (and kept his mind off Dumbledore), it didn't feel right, and he couldn't live with himself if he led her on. But he hadn't told anybody this. He had considered telling Ron, but decided against it, because he had no idea what his reaction would be, and the last thing Harry needed was to fight with one of the people he would soon be spending most of his time with. And he probably would of told Hermione, but he hadn't been able to get near her all week, at least not in a way to have a private conversation. He felt as though he needed to tell somebody, but he supposed with everything going on, his fairly petty problem could wait.

'Anyway, I'm bored. Do you guys want to go for a walk?' Hermione asked them, though she focused her gaze on Harry, not once looking at Ron. This was something else Harry had noticed; he had barely heard Hermione and Ron say two words to each other, which was odd, because they usually were bickering at the least.

'Err, ahem, no, you go, I've got to ah, make sure my suit is ready for tomorrow,' Ron stammered awkwardly, before rushing back inside the house.

'Okay. Harry, what about you,' Hermione said expectantly.

'Yeah, of course,' Harry replied. It would do him good to spend some time with Hermione. He had barely seen her all week, and Ron acted odd whenever she was around, so he wasn't very good company.

They set off across the Weasley's garden. Their yard backed onto a small wood, which served well as a shortcut to the other side of the village. A path was carved through, made by many feet throughout the years. Harry himself was quite familiar with the forest, on and off the path, as he found it the perfect place to come when he needed to clear his head, which was quite often.

They walked for a while in silence, though not out of awkwardness. It was peaceful. Peace was something they couldn't get at the house at the moment, so they both appreciated it.

After a few minutes they entered a small clearing. Hermione stopped walking and sat cross-legged on the ground. Harry joined her.

'Hermione,' Harry said suddenly, 'what's going on?'

'What do you mean?' she asked, trying to look confused, though ruining the effect by not quite meeting his eye.

'You know perfectly well what I mean. You and Ron have spoken a total of two times since I've been here, and when you did it was completely awkward and forced, not to mention I haven't once seen you look at each other. What happened?' he asked, though he had a hunch.

'Okay, fine,' Hermione huffed, 'but don't let Ron know I told you.'

'I can live with that,' Harry said, smirking. He loved to get the better of her.

She scowled for a moment before softening her gaze. She couldn't be mad at him. It was only natural to be curious, especially for him, being cut off from everyone else so often. Plus he had to live with those good for nothing relatives of his. No, there was no way she could be angry with him for doing what comes naturally.

'Alright, it started on the train last term, you know, on the way home,' Hermione started. Taking a deep breath, she continued, 'we were doing our duties. I guess after everything that had happened, Ron thought it was the right time. He asked me out, and since I had been lusting after him the whole year, I obviously said yes. But it turned out that's all it was; lust. I mean, at first it seemed great, but the "novelty" of a boyfriend wore off fairly quickly. I think the reason I wanted him so badly was that I wasn't with him, if you know what I mean.'

'Oddly enough, I think I do,' Harry replied.

'Yes, well, I'm glad you do,' she said, 'there was just nothing there, no spark. I tried to explain all this to Ron, but he stormed off, and we haven't really talked since. All he said to me was that he didn't want you to know anything about it.'

'Why wouldn't he want me to know, I'm not going to judge,' Harry replied indignantly.

'_I_ know that, why do you think I told you,' said Hermione, 'so now you know.'

'Fair enough,' Harry said, 'and since were being truthful, how about I tell you the _real_ reasonIbroke up with Ginny?'

'I thought there was more to it,' Hermione said with a slight smile, 'I'm listening.'

'Well, its much the same as what you said really, it was keeping me relatively happy, but I didn't want to lead her on when I didn't feel right,' Harry explained.

Hermione was giving him a strange look. He couldn't quite read it.

'But please don't tell her,' Harry added quickly, 'she doesn't deserve to be told she wasn't the right girl, it would shatter her I think.'

'Your secret is safe with me,' Hermione told him, and Harry knew he could trust her. He always did, he could somehow tell be the look in her eyes.

'Harry, Hermione, are you in there?' they heard Mr Weasley's voice carry through the trees.

'Coming Mr Weasley,' Harry yelled back, getting to his feet. He extended his hand to help Hermione up. When she was standing, she wrapped her arms around Harry's neck and said, 'Thank you.'

'What for?' he asked, bewildered, for he hadn't done anything.

'For being you,' she replied, pulling away and taking his hands in hers, 'you're always there when I need you. You're a really great friend, and for that, I thank you.'

She dropped one of his hands, turning away, though held onto the other slightly longer than deemed necessary, before letting it go too. She then let out a small laugh, and took of toward the house. Harry watched her for a moment, then gave chase. He was quicker than her, so caught up easily. He grabbed her hand to slow her down, and threw his arm around her shoulders.

'You're a great friend too Hermione. I don't know what I would do without you,' Harry said to her, 'and I want you to know that I'll always be here for you, no matter what. Don't you forget that.'

'I know Harry,' Hermione replied, 'I know.'

LATER THAT NIGHT…

Mrs Weasley decided to have a party for dinner. That way everyone could get to know each other before they became family. There were several small tables with chairs around, and a large table with a huge assortment of food, mostly a mixture of British and French "delicacies". The Weasley's now had a house elf of their own, Pollock, and he, along with a few other elves Mr Weasley had hired for the wedding, prepared everything. Due to the fact she didn't have to lift a finger, Mrs Weasley was in a very good mood.

'Pass your goblets people, I found us some fun,' Ron said, making his way back to the table they were sitting at, carrying two bottles of wine.

'Geez mate, who'd you flog that from,' Harry asked him, slightly amused at the thought.

'I didn't steal it,' Ron said indignantly, 'Dad said that since we're seventeen, he can't stop us drinking if we want to, so I got us some wine.'

'And what did your Mum have to say about that?' Harry asked, with a feeling that Mrs Weasley probably didn't know anything about this deal.

'Well that's the best bit,' Ron replied, 'she's in such a good mood, she actually agreed with Dad. Now pass me your glasses.'

'That's not fair,' Ginny said angrily, 'what am I supposed to do while you all get drunk?'

'Come on Gin, its just a drink, we're not going to get drunk,' Hermione said sympathetically to Ginny.

'Speak for yourself Hermione,' Ron said without thinking. He realised that he had actually spoken to Hermione, and quickly turned back to Ginny, 'You could always go and play with Gabrielle, Gin.'

'Oh ha ha, you're so freaking funny Ronald,' Ginny snapped, storming off in the direction of the house. As she stomped through the back door, she bumped into Fred and George.

'Sorry,' she spat at them, pushing past.

'What's got her knickers in a knot?' George asked, looking amused.

'Just _Ronald_ being his usual sensitive self,' Hermione said nastily, clearly in retaliation to Ron's earlier comment.

'Anyway,' Fred intervened loudly, before a fight could ensue, 'we saw little Ronniekins with his ickle wine, and thought, we cant let these kids spend the night drinking some cheap crap our brother scrounged up. I mean, what sort of friends would that make us?'

'Exactly,' George followed on, 'so here is some real fun.' He pulled a bottle of Ogdens Old Firewhisky out of his pocket. Fred then flicked his wand, conjuring five shot-glasses. George proceeded to fill them, and pushed one to each of them.

Harry took hold of his and said, 'I dunno guys.' Ron, however, had already downed his, and was reaching for the bottle to refill his glass.

'Come on Harry, why not,' Ron said, raising his second shot to his mouth.

'Yeah Harry,' said Fred.

'Cheers,' George said, raising his in a toast to nothing in particular.

Harry looked round to Hermione, who shrugged and gave him a look that said 'I guess it cant hurt.' they both raised their glasses.

'Cheers,' Harry said, throwing his head back and pouring the liquid down his throat. He could feel it searing all the way down his oesophagus. He glanced at Hermione, and watched as she screwed her face up and shuddered. Harry heard a pop, and turned to see Ron uncork one of the wine bottles.

'Pass me your glasses,' Ron said enthusiastically.

SEVERAL HOURS LATER…

Across the Weasley's garden a group of slightly tipsy cough_smashed_cough teenagers could be seen making extravagant toasts.

'To Mum's good mood,' Fred said raising his goblet into the air.

'To Firewhisky,' said George, raising his also and spilling some onto the table.

'To Fill and Bleur,' Ron slurred loudly, skulling what had to be his tenth glass of wine. And that was on top of the countless shots he had downed in between. Harry had tried telling Ron several drinks ago that he should slow down, but he wouldn't listen. Fred and George had had no less than Ron, though they were composing themselves better than him. Clearly they were no strangers to "boozing it up". The problem was they kept encouraging Ron. Hermione had the sense not to get tanked, and Harry felt he should keep his wits about him, for Ron's sake.

Harry felt a nudge in his ribs. He realised Ron was elbowing him.

'Check her out Harry, is she fine or what,' Ron murmured to him, gesturing toward the drink table. Harry turned and saw he was referring to one of Fleur's cousins, who was getting herself a Butterbeer. Harry had to admit that yes, she was quite attractive.

'Yeah mate, she's not bad,' Harry said. He hoped she wasn't about to look at them. Ron was gaping at her with his mouth hanging open, and it wasn't a good look.

'I think I'll go and say hi,' Ron said, jumping to his feet. Harry knew this was a bad idea that would only end in disaster.

'Ron, I don't think you should,' Harry said, getting up to stop him. Ron, however, moved forward, stumbled, and grabbed Harry around the neck to hold himself up.

'Harry, it's alright, I'll be fine, okay,' Ron said, patting Harry on the chest and setting off in an unsteady line across the yard. Harry sat back down, keeping his eyes on his drunken friend.

'This is going to end badly, I can tell,' Harry said to Hermione, who was looking on with mild interest.

'Yeah, you're probably right,' she replied in a bored voice.

'I should of tried harder to stop him,' he said, as Ron reached the table (a/n: he took an inordinate amount of time to reach the table, didn't he?).

'Should be good for a laugh though,' Hermione said, with a smile at the thought.

Harry and Hermione both watched on. Fred and George, who were fighting over who was going to get the last shot of Firewhisky, were oblivious to the situation at hand. Harry saw Ron say something to the girl, and advance on her slightly. Then, quick as a flash, she brought her hand back, and slapped him across the face so hard, they heard the sound from the other side of the yard. Harry jumped up and started over to him, but it seemed everyone else heard the commotion also, because unfortunately, Mrs Weasley reached Ron before Harry had taken three steps. Something told them all her good mood was about to disappear.

'Ronald Weasley, what the hell do you think you're doing,' Mrs Weasley screamed at her youngest son, 'I want you to go to bed right now!'

Harry rushed forward and said, 'Don't worry Mrs Weasley, I'll take him.'

'Thank you Harry dear,' she said wearily, 'call me if he gives you any trouble.'

'He'll be fine,' Harry reassured her. He grabbed Ron by the arm, and dragged him toward the house. This proved to be no easy task. Harry had to hold him up most of the way to stop him falling flat on his face. He also kept fighting to get back to the party. It took them about five minutes just to get upstairs. But instead of taking Ron to his room, Harry steered him into the bathroom. He pulled Ron's shirt over his head, pulled off his shoes and socks, and pushed onto the floor in the shower. Ron looked up at him, eyes crossed as he tried to focus his gaze.

'Is that you Harry?' Ron asked groggily, squinting and shielding his eyes from the bright bathroom light, 'what am I doing on the floor?'

Harry grasped the cold tap, and turned it on hard. A blast of icy cold water hit Ron in the face. He started thrashing about, but due to his current state, and the slippery floor, he could do nothing but lie there and cop it as wave after wave of freezing water pounded against his bare chest. When Harry felt Ron had had enough, he turned the water off, leaving Ron in a puddle on the floor. Harry grabbed a towel and threw it down to him.

'Hurry up and dry off, you need to go to bed,' Harry told him.

'What'd you drown me for,' Ron said angrily, managing to stand, and towelling his hair.

'Trust me, you'll thank me in the morning,' Harry said.

They made their way up to Ron's room. Harry pushed Ron inside and said, 'Get changed and sleep it off mate,' before closing the door and sitting on the stairs. Hermione appeared at the bottom. She made her way up and sat beside him.

'Mrs Weasley sent me up to check on you,' she told Harry, 'so how is he?'

'My guess is that he'll have a throbbing headache in the morning, but he'll live,' Harry said through a smile.

'Serves himself right,' Hermione said. She felt he deserved everything he got.

Harry knocked on the door and said, 'Ron, you okay in there mate?' When he got no answer, he stood up and opened the door to find Ron sprawled on his stomach in his bed, snoring loudly enough to bring down the house.

'Out like a light,' Harry told Hermione.

'Come on,' she said, hooking her arm in the crook of his elbow, 'the night is still young.'

'You're right,' he said, and they made their way back down to the party.

A/N:Well there you have it. We do realise this chapter was long, and we apologise and hope you weren't discouraged, for not all the chapters will be this long. Please review, any suggestions are welcome. Even if you review to tell us that it was gay, that's okay, because feedback is feedback. Ciao.


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